Macen was typically a sweet-tempered boy, but teething turned him in to a wailing monster. Nothing settled him at all, and his discomfort and sore mouth meant that feeding him was a challenge. Especially when he was careless about the few teeth he’d already cut. Marys had resigned herself to another restless night when the door opened quietly behind her.

Whatever else she might think of her employer, Lord Vedran was a devoted father in his way, and had a magic touch when it came to calming his son’s crying fits. Resigned, she handed Macen over without a word.